Yes, there is rock, but it's so deformed that not even no wave could help you make sense out of it. Imagine if a bunch of viruses filled with fake news and contemporary nastiness would go straight to the core of no wave, punk, and rock's integrity: authenticity. Not to say that the Butthole Surfers were the most authentic band in the world or that this record matches the production of El-P, but instead here you have some of the most exciting musicians in Berlin coming together for the first time, interpreting some lyrics from Mattin, dealing with our fucked up times and the search for overcoming them. To say that there is no authenticity is not to fall into the postmodern relativism that has been a debilitating force in the struggle against the new wave of neo fascism. In fact, the latter also claim their own authenticity: race realism. Not surprisingly, authenticity was also at the core of Heidegger, which somehow connects National Socialism and its French deconstructionist critics. Even if this record for some might sound like deconstructed rock through electronic noise and improv, it is also doing something else, like building a Frankenstein monster in the form of a rock-as-zombie-avatar: as if Lou Reed would haunt us from the other side, connecting the motherboards of our devices to our brains, giving us all electroshocks for not being able to stop this fascism-as-the-new-punk regime, while he shouts at us: they got the traction on danger and you need to take it back!